You're Playing The Song of My Soul
by LockedAndLokied
Summary: They say all the stories of selkies are all tragedies, tales of sorrow and sadness. Jason has never been a man of exceptions. So why should he be now?


PROLOGUE

He lives in a small cottage on the cliff, away from the rest of the town. Several of his neighbors have already walked up cliff, bringing food of all sorts, and introducing themselves.

Many of them are more elderly, having moved away from the bustling life and retired to a small fishing town off the coast of Scotland. They all seem rather surprised that he isn't one of them, older, slower, greyed, and wrinkly. Even more shocking is his accent. Definitely not from Scotland. Maybe America…

But he does not want his neighbors coming over. He does not want their casseroles or cakes or condolences. Death happens to everyone. He knows that perfectly well. It hurt and it still hurts, but time will heal his wounds.

A week after he moved in, they stop coming. During those first few nights, he does not sleep much. He sits by his kitchen window, looking out longingly at the sea. He knows, that on the other side of the stretch of water, somewhere far away, his parents are at rest now. But he could not stay, so he left.

He does odd jobs during the day. Fixing boats, helping out at the local diner, organizing books at the antique book store. But at night, he still cannot sleep. Sure, he may get a couple hours at a time, but most of the night, he sits there and listens to the waves crashing against the cliff below him.

Until the night he finally goes out into the night. The breeze is warm, so he wears a t-shirt and shorts and no shoes. In his pocket, he carries a flute. His father's first Native American flute. It is worn and well-loved.

He walks down the little path leading from the back of the house, down the rocky cliff path, and onto the beach. He stands there for a while, looking at the moon that is hanging over the waves, spilling its light onto the waters below.

Then, he spots the cave.

It is nearly hidden behind the dark rocks, but he sees it. He waded through shallower water, the bottom of his shorts get wet, but he is soon standing in front of a large opening in the cliff. His feet creates soft indents in the otherwise untouched sand. The cave is not very deep. From the back of the cave to the entrance, it is about five feet.

He sits down on the sand, wiggling his feet in the whispers of warmth captured before the sun disappeared that day.

Then he starts to play.

* * *

 _The haunting song drew him from the sea._

 _It tugs at his soul like nothing he'd ever heard. Almost without thinking, he is drawn into shallower waters, towards the coast. He follows the song, peeping his head out of the water occasionally to listen._

 _It is coming from the hidden cove. The cove is a place he visits on nights he needed some peace. And now, there is a human there, sitting in the little cave, and the melancholy music is coming from him._

 _He only pokes his head out a tiny bit. He watches the man play, transfixed. He can feel the sorrow flowing from the man in waves. He wants to swim forward, shed his skin, and sit there and listen for the rest of eternity. He wants to ask this man, why is he so sad?_

 _But when the song ends, the spell is broken. He dives beneath the gentle waves again._

* * *

CHAPTER 1

Jason brought his flute with him, as usual, as he walked down towards the little cove he had discovered on his first week in Ardalanish, Scotland. Every night since then, he had gone down to the beach around midnight, between the high and low tides. And he would sit on the beach and just play whatever song his heart desired.

When he played his flute, Jason felt like he could lose himself in the melody, the sad, drawn out notes that told his story better than words could. The harmony that expressed his heartache in more detail than any story.

And every once in a while, Jason would get the feeling that someone was watching him. That someone was listening in on his midnight tunes, his silent and anonymous audience of one. But Jason did not find the urge to go search them out. They did not bother him, therefore he will not bother them.

Tonight, the moon was hidden behind sporadic clouds, but there was enough light for Jason to walk down the rocky cliff path and tread through the cold water to his little hideaway.

His invisible audience was already there, waiting only for the performer, Jason, to arrive.

Jason sat down, and he brought the flute to his lips, looking out over the ocean, letting the cave walls bounce the sound back out to the dark mirror in front of him.

His eyes closed slowly, and he just let his fingers run over the holes in the flute, letting his emotions pour into his music with every breath. Halfway through his song, Jason opens his eyes. He looks out over the ocean.

And there, not too far away, was a little bump in the water. Jason nearly faltered in his playing, but he didn't. He continued. When he reached the end of his heartbreaking song, as the last note faded into silence, the little bump in the water sank below the surface and was gone in a flash.

Jason sat in the cave longer than he usually did, watching the flat ocean, waiting for the head to reappear. It never did.

So Jason stood, dusted the fine sand from his shorts and started back towards his cottage. The small stretch of water he usually crossed was now dry. It was low tide now, but if he didn't go home soon, the entire place would flood and he would be trapped there until high tide passed.

Jason's cottage stood on top of the cliff, its blue grey walls seeming drab and lonely. There was no other house on the coast for miles except for his. Town was about a ten minutes' walk away, and that was where Jason's neighbors lived.

They were nice enough, old ladies that enjoyed crocheting, elderly men that smoked and talked about their days serving in different wars. They made up the majority of the town. With a population of only 580, the rest were made up of middle aged couples who worked in the town, and their children, who were still in school. As far as Jason knew, there was no one of his age there.

Once a day, Jason would walk into town, grab a few groceries, maybe work a little here and there before going home again. While he took whatever odd jobs he could get, Jason preferred the small book store on Main Street. It was owned by Mira, a single mother of two kids, and she was very kind. Her husband had left her three years back, and she never got over it. She refuses to speak about her husband, but Jason found out from the gossiping old ladies that would bring him lunch whenever he worked on boats down at the dock.

Jason likes the bookstore. It is quiet, a bit musty, but Jason loved books. He had a passion for literature, and whenever he finished his work early, Mira would allow him to read whatever he wants and in exchange, he would watch the store while she goes to pick up her kids from the only school in town.

Jason had been dusting the back shelves when he came across a thick volume. He pulled it out. It had no title on the cover, but on the first page, there were thick letters that read, _Stories of the Sea_. It was a thick book, and Jason was determined to read it from cover to cover.

If he had enough money to spare, he would have bought the book from Mira, but until then, he would read it for half an hour every day he could.

But sometimes, Mira did not need help in the book store, so Jason would go to the docks instead. There was always something there for him to do. Today, he was untangling fishing nets.

Around lunchtime, the gaggle of ladies that seemed to have nothing better to do, brought lunch down for "all the hard working lads".

Jason thanked them quietly, taking his sandwich and bowl of clam chowder, and sitting on an upturned bucket in the shade of a small fishing boat. The women- there were four of them – were talking loudly, and Jason could hear them quite clearly.

"-such a strong and independent man." One of them, Becca, giggled.

Her friend, Catherine, shushed her. "Oh, stop it," she said with a sly smile, looking over at one of the older men sitting in a group on one of the boats.

Jason knew who she was talking about. Mark was an older man that looked quite good for his age. He had grey streaks in his hair, but his personality was loud and boisterous. He loved talking to the women, kissing the backs of their hands, complimenting their hair and cooking, a natural flirt. He was also strong and a hard worker.

Catherine looked back to her friends. "He is odd though. No one knows where he lives. Maye he's a selkie," she giggled. "Ooh, watch out for him, Becky. Selkies are bad news, and you know it. Look what happened to that Mira."

Another one of them snorted, Anne. "Mark is no selkie. Selkies can only go one land once every seven years. And unless someone took his coat, he would've gone back to the ocean already. Besides, he's way too cheerful to be someone who is stuck here against their will."

Becca gasped quietly. "What about the other one? The new one. Could he be a selkie?"

Jason rolled his eyes and looked away as four pairs of eyes turned to look at him.

The fourth one of them finally spoke. "Maybe. He certainly seems miserable enough. But isn't it ironic that Mira has taken a liking to him?" Carol asked.

Catherine laughed nervously. "I thought Mira was still broken up about her husband? He was a selkie, wasn't he?"

Carol leaned in, with a rather mean smirk. "That's what the rumor says. Mira doesn't talk about it. But didn't you notice how upset he always seemed? He would take walks on the beach every day and seemed to have no interest in town life. Ever see _him_ working down at the docks?"

Anne nodded in agreement. "He must've been a selkie. Serves that Mira right. She took his coat, so in exchange, he takes her heart and leaves with it. Humph. I knew that pretty face was too good to be true after all."

Jason's interest piqued. A selkie? The next day, he went to the bookstore and when Mira went to go pick up her kids, Jason flipped straight to the section on selkies. He read quickly, soaking in all the information.

A selkie is a seal person. Someone who can shed their seal skin, and walk among people. They are rather mild creatures, having no vicious tendencies like other mythical creatures of the sea. The men are devastatingly handsome and the women heartbreakingly beautiful. And true to their descriptions, nearly all recorded stories of selkies were tales of grief, anguish, and lost love.

Jason thought briefly of Mira and the husband that walked out on her out of the blue one day.

He closed the book, setting it back in its place, as Mira stepped back into the store. He thanked Mira, said hello to her young children, and headed out of the store. As he walked home, Jason was struck with a thought.

Every night, when he sat in the cove, he noticed the little head that poked out of the water to listen. Could it be that the stories were true? There are seal people living in the sea.

And one of them had taken a special interest in Jason and his midnight melodies.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

It had been a little more than month since Jason has come to the little Scottish fishing town. His nightly rendezvous with the moon and sea were one of the things he looks forward to each night.

That, and his new seal friend.

Ever since Jason read up on selkies in the book at the back of Mira's shop, he had been keeping an eye on the seal.

He noticed that as the nights went on, the seal seemed to drift closer and closer towards the cove itself.

Now, on most nights, it would swim around the entrance of the cove, deep enough for it to make a fast getaway, but close enough for Jason to study it more closely. And it honestly looked like any other seal.

Jason hadn't seen many seals before, but he had looked up more on seals, their natural habits, and sad music was definitely not on the list.

A downside to his situation, however, was that his music seemed to put a spell on his seal friend. Every night, Jason would come down the cove, and he would spot the seal swimming the shallow waters, waiting for him.

Then, when he starts playing, it would slow its swimming and just listen intently. Jason would take this time to look at the seal better. It had long eyelashes, and eyes the color of onyx. With the moonlight as his only light source, Jason could not clearly tell how large the seal actually was, but he wagered it was a smaller male.

But the minute Jason stops playing, the seal dives back into the water and swims away, never once looking back. Jason couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.

Until one night, Jason did not bring his flute. He had been having a crappy day, and he just wanted to cry himself to sleep, but he couldn't sleep. So he visited his little cove.

He sat down in his normal spot and looked at the seal, who was staring back expectantly.

Finally, he spoke. "I'm sorry," he said softly, just over the sound of the whispering waves. "I didn't bring my flute today." He sighed. "I don't even know if you can understand me. I'm talking to a stupid seal, of course he can't understand me."

Jason buried his head in his hands, expecting the seal to be gone when he looked up, but it wasn't. It was still staring at him. Jason stared back, feeling like he was disappointing it somehow.

"What do you want?" Jason asked finally. "I don't have my flute. I can't play you music. So maybe you should just… go."

Jason stood, brushing his shorts off. He started towards the water to go home. There was a soft barking behind him. A few splashes of water, and Jason turned. The seal had swam closer, now only a few feet away, most of its body out of the water. The moonlight reflected off its slick back, and Jason held his breath, not wanting to scare the animal away.

It was a dark grey, with a lighter grey back, and brown spots. It was larger than Jason had thought, but still a little small compared to how big males were supposed to be.

Slowly, Jason bent down a little, holding his hand out slowly. The seal made a soft snorting sound, its eyes following Jason's hand.

Its whiskers twitched and brushed Jason's shaking palm. Then, in a flash, the seal turned and swam out into deeper waters, diving quickly back into the ocean. Jason wiped salt water off his face with his half soaked shirt and sighed, staring after the animal.

He stood there for quite a while, the freezing ocean water making his feet numb.

Then he went home.

* * *

 _The man was especially sad today. Dick did not understand anything he was saying, but his face was sad, his voice was sad, and his posture was sad. Dick could not understand why he was sad. He lived close to the ocean, the most beautiful place on earth. Maybe he was sad because he couldn't swim around like Dick could._

 _But he could play beautiful music. Dick liked the music. However, there was no music today. Because the man was sad._

 _Dick swam deeper down. He was supposed to be out hunting, but each night, he would stray for a while and listen to the man in the cove._

 _Dick was a quick hunter though. He collected the appropriate amount of fish in no time and rushed back home, a nearby island. This island was special. It was hidden by ancient selkie magic. Humans could not find this island unless led here by a selkie. And once they leave, they would forget the location of the island. And here, selkies could walk around as humans, but it did not count as going on land._

 _Dick set his still flopping fish down into the basket he had left by the rocks, and climbed out. He slipped his seal coat off, tying it around his naked waist before heading into his family cave._

 _It was the cave that he lived in with his brothers, Damian and Tim._

 _Damian was the eldest, but he always thought that he was in charge. And Tim always sided with Damian, never Dick. Their father is always away somewhere, rarely coming home. Their mother died soon after having Dick._

 _And since their father isn't around often, Damian is left to lead the clan in his shoes. They are the largest groups of selkies left on the west coast of Scotland, fifty of them living on the island._

 _Tim is in charge of making sure the cave stays organized, food is prepared at each meal, and he helps out with the selkie children._

 _So Dick's job is to go hunting. Most of the younger men and the older boys are in charge of hunting. However, hunting is one of the most dangerous jobs. There are few predators that eat seals, but there still are predators. And since selkie numbers are slowly dwindling, each member lost causes a huge impact on them._

 _Dick carries the large basket full of fish back to the cave. Tim takes the basket from him without a word. Damian is sitting at a table, glaring at Dick._

 _"What took you so long? Why have you been out all night?" he demanded._

 _Dick shrugged uncomfortably under his gaze. "I'm sorry. I went a little further than I meant to."_

 _"You've been doing this for a while now, Dick. Now tell me where you have been," Damian said with authority in his voice._

 _Dick sighed. "Okay, I'm sorry. I was exploring a ship wreck, okay? I know you told me not to, but I couldn't help it…"_

 _"Shipwrecks are dangerous, Dick. Rotten pieces could easy fall down and trap you in. And you will either die there or a shark will come by and tear you to pieces. And none of us will know what happened." Damian said angrily._

 _"I said I'm sorry, okay? Just let it go. I came back, didn't I? Call me when dinner's ready."_

 _He left the cave, going to sulk by himself somewhere else on the island._

* * *

CHAPTER 3

 _Dick knew it was too much of a risk to go and see the man. But as he went out hunting, he decided that a short detour would not hurt. He changed course, heading towards the mainland instead of out into the ocean._

 _However, just as the cliffs came into view, just as Dick could see the tiny cottage on top of the cliffs, something tackled Dick, and he barked loudly in surprise. Two very angry seals were swimming circles around him. Tim and Damian._

 _The dark brown seal snapped his teeth at Dick. "Where do you think you're going?"_

 _Dick shrank back. "I'm not doing anything wrong!"_

 _"You're within sight of land," Tim chastised coldly. "So you're already doing something wrong. What did we tell you, Dick?"_

 _"I didn't go on land! I won't go on land, okay? I know the rules, and I'm not stupid enough to break them."_

 _"Then why are you here?" Damian barked angrily, his dark eyes flashing in the dark blue waters._

 _"I just… wanted to listen to the music," Dick finally admitted. "There's a man who sits there and plays every night. I just wanted to listen."_

 _"No, you're going right back home, and that's where you'll be staying. Tim will take of your duties and you will take over his from now on!" Damian said, turning to swim away._

 _"No!" Dick said. "I won't do that! You can't take away my freedom! I'm old enough to decide what I want to do!"_

 _Damian spun around and snapped at him again. "I promised Father to watch over you! And you do nothing but be an ungrateful idiot! You think you really now any better? Those humans are monsters! They've been hunting seals for pelts since the beginning of time, and they've killed so many of our kind without even knowing it!"_

 _Dick felt those words like stabs in his heart. "Dami…"_

 _"You're coming home, whether you like it or not. C'mon, Tim."_

 _"No."_

 _Damian nipped him this time, not deep, but hard. It drew blood, and Dick let out a pathetic noise, his tail swishing out and smacking Damian across the face. Boiling with fury now, Damian dove at him with lightning speed, his claws extending and slashing Dick, sinking in quite deeply._

 _Tim rushed in, blocking Damian off from Dick. But Dick was angry now. He bit Tim, shaking him hard until he backed away meekly. Dick was trained to be a hunter, so he had skills Tim and Damian did not have. They fought viciously, the water around them turning red with blood._

 _Tim got hurt several times trying to break them up._

 _"I am not going home with you," Dick snarled, teeth coated with blood. Damian glared at him for a long time._

 _"Fine," Damian said. "Then don't bother coming home." With that, he turned and swam away. "Tim, let's go."_

 _Tim looked at Dick for a moment, but Dick did not look at him. Then he swam off after their older brother._

 _As they left, Dick swam towards shore, anywhere away from them. But as the water grew shallower and the longer he swam, the more pain he realized he was in. Blood leaked sluggishly from his deeper wounds, and it made swimming hard._

 _Thankfully, he had reached water too shallow for large sharks that loved preying on seals. But Dick did not have the energy to swim anywhere safe. His consciousness was fading fast. The sea water pushed him along gently._

 _Suddenly, there was splashing nearby, and Dick looked up and saw the man, kneeling in the water beside him, his hands gracing over Dick's wounds gently. He said something before he ran off again._

 _And Dick blacked out._

* * *

Jason was a little late going down the cove. He had forgotten his flute the first time and had to go back up to get it. When he finally got down to the little cave, he noticed that something was wrong.

His seal friend was in the water, but in water way too shallow to be comfortably swimming in. Jason rushed over, dropping to his knees in the water. He touched the seal gently and rolled him over. Jason nearly dropped his flute in shock at the blood that came away in his hands.

"Hey, stay right here! I'll go get medical supplies. Um, shit. Don't move, okay? I'll be right back!"

He tore up the cliff path, small pebbles and sharp rocks digging into his bare feet, but Jason didn't care. He burst into his cottage, collecting bandages, and different ointments. He didn't know how to care for a wild animal, but he will figure that out later.

Slipping and sliding down the path as fast as he dared, Jason reached the hidden cove in no time.

But the seal was not there.

The tide had gone down, and where the seal had been lying, was now occupied by a human. He was naked, and water trails of blood ran down his body. He was not conscious.

Jason rushed over, checking over the man's wounds. His eyes handed on a slick seal's pelt that was crushed underneath the man. Jason reached over tentatively, his fingers brushing on thick, oily but soft fur.

His breath caught in his throat. The man in front of him was a selkie. Not just any selkie, but the selkie that had been listening to him play music for months now.

Making a decision, Jason bent down and scooped the limp body up in his arms, the cold water making task a bit hard. He looks at the pelt for a split second before he draped it over his shoulder as well, and started up the cliff path.

He pushed open his cottage door, glad he left it open in his hurry to go to the cove. Walking inside, Jason lay the man down in the spare room, grabbing a towel and wiping down most of the water and blood. Then, he heated a needle carefully over a candle flame, sterilizing it, before beginning to stitch up the large gaping wound on the selkie man's torso. Then he cleaned and slowly bandaged several of the minor wounds. Then Jason sat there for a long time, staring at the unconscious man.

Selkies were real. And there was one lying in his spare room right now, knocked out. Jason had no idea what to do. Then he remembered the pelt. The book had said that selkies could not return to the sea without their pelt. And many people hid a selkie's pelt to force them to stay on land and marry them.

Jason reached out and thumbed the slick pelt. He gently lifted it off of the man, covering him up with a blanket instead. Jason decided only to keep the pelt until the selkie was healed.

He needed to find a good hiding place though. Jason went to his own bedroom, and pulled out a large suitcase from underneath the bed. He turned the key in the chest, opened it up and tossed the pelt inside. Then, Jason locked the suitcase back up and slipped the small key into the pocket of his shorts.

And then, Jason waits for the selkie man to wake up.

He did not need to wait long. Half an hour before midnight, around the time he would usually come back from his nightly visits to the cove, the man stirred.

Jason was at his side in an instant. "Hey, shh… Don't move so much. You'll strain yourself."

The man's eyes blinked open slowly. They were blue, like the ocean and like the skies above it.

The man opened his mouth to speak. "You're…" He started sitting up.

"You'll hurt yourself more," Jason said, pushing lightly on the man's chest. The man looked down at himself in surprise, then up at Jason in panic.

"Where is my coat?" he asked. "I need my coat. Please, where is it?"

Jason was aback taken by the response. He looked into the man's desperate but beautiful blue eyes, lost. The man, Jason could now see, had looks beyond human standards. His skin was perfect, pearly and glowing healthily. His hair, though wet, was inky and black. He was overwhelmingly handsome.

Jason played dumb. "Coat? I'm sorry, what coat?"

"My coat," the man said, trying to sit up again. "I can't go home without it. I- I," he let out a small sob. "I can't go home."

Jason sat down next to him. "Hey, hey. Um, you're injured right now. We'll worry about your coat later, okay? Until after you heal." Jason lightly pushed him back down.

The man looked at him with sad eyes. "I need my coat to go home. Please, I need my coat."

Jason nodded and shushed him. "We'll find it. Just rest for now."

The man slumped, staring up at the ceiling unseeingly. "What's your name?" he whispered. His eyes were bright with unshed tears now.

Jason hesitated a second. "Jason. My name is Jason."

The selkie man took a shuddering breath, closing his blue eyes. Two twin trails of tears ran down the sides of his face. "Thank you, Jason."

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Every day, Dick asked for his coat, and every day, Jason told him that he wasn't well enough yet. That he still had to heal. For a week, this went on. But then, the stitches were removed, the bandages came off, and when Dick asked for his coat again, Jason had to come up with another reason.

Jason was lonely. He was tired of being all alone, and even though Dick was constantly looking out the window at the sea, going down to the cove each and every day, Jason liked his company.

After the first couple of days, Dick asked about Jason's music. And Jason would play for him. And Dick would sit there quietly the whole time, listening. His soulful blue eyes never left Jason when he was playing his flute. He looked at Jason like he hung the moon, but the minute the song ends, Dick would turn back to the window facing the sea.

After Dick had fully healed, Jason promised to take him out "searching" for his coat. They scoured the entirety of the cove and the cliffs several times.

And after each uneventful search, Jason would go back to his cottage with Dick, and he would go to sleep, knowing the object of Dick's desire was locked in the suitcase under the bed.

A month passed. And the longer Jason spent in Dick's presence, the less he wanted Dick to leave. So Jason buried the coat one day. He dug a large hole under the old tree on the cliffs, near his cottage. He put the locked suitcase in there. Then he strung a string through the key and locked that away in a small wooden box.

Then, from that day forward, Jason did whatever he could to please Dick. He found out that Dick loved flowers of all sorts. So each day, after work, he would buy a fresh flower to bring home to Dick.

And Jason reveled in the moments where Dick would turned away from the window, accept the flowers with a smile, take a deep whiff, and place them in the vase before going back to the window. It still would not turn Dick's attention away from the window.

Jason started going back to the cove at night. The first couple times, he went alone, playing his flute. The music was as sad as before, this time filled with longing. Then, Dick would go with him.

Dick would strip down to his underclothes and wade out in the ocean. Then he would stand there with his eyes closed, facing the moon, and listening to Jason's music. Jason would play for as long as he could, but it never seemed to be long enough for Dick.

Another couple weeks passed. Dick started showing more reactions to Jason. He would turn to greet Jason when he came from town each day, he would take the flower with a smile, gently thumbing its petals, while he watched Jason cook dinner.

Then, they would go out to the secret cove together, and when midnight approaches, they return to the cottage. The spare room is empty nowadays.

Another couple weeks pass, and it's been three months since Jason found Dick. Dick still asks about his coat every once in a while, but Jason always tells him that he had no such luck. Dick started accompanying Jason to town.

Mira had taken an instant liking to Dick. So Dick would stay in the book store in Jason's place while Jason worked down at the docks on a daily basis now. Among the men at the docks, Jason was still an outcast of sorts, and they scorned Jason about Dick.

But Jason never retaliates. He just does his work silently.

And ever since the townspeople found out about Dick, they have been colder towards Jason. The ladies that usually brought lunch down to the other men always "forgot" him, so Jason would bring his own lunch.

His previously kind neighbors gave him the cold shoulder, no longer smiling or waving when they passed each other on the streets.

Only Mira remained kindhearted towards them. Jason felt bad because he knew that Mira also got shut out from the rest of the town a little bit more, and in turn, her children did too. When Jason brought this up to her, she just scoffed, telling him not to worry about her.

Dick remained blissfully oblivious to all this. Dick never got the same treatment Jason did in the town, however. His charm worked gloriously on everything.

The old ladies all loved him, the children all wanted to play with him, and the town florist would always give him any leftover flowers at the end of each week. Dick was also gracious about it, thanking everyone, helping out wherever help was needed, and he wore a smile at all times.

But when they get back to the cottage, Dick's smile would slip, and the sadness would seep back. Sometimes, early in the morning, Jason would wake up to find no one beside him, and Dick curled up by the window, looking out at the sea again.

On those mornings, Jason just wanted to crawl back into bed and cry himself to sleep again. Seeing Dick like this broke his heart. Jason knew that Dick wanted nothing more than to go back to the sea. The sea called to him. The sea was his home. But Jason was selfish. He did not want to be alone. He did not want Dick to leave him. He wanted Dick to love him back.

Jason kept telling himself, just a little more time. He only needed a little more time, and Dick would love him. But Dick seemed to love nothing more than the sea, the one thing Jason was keeping from him.

This knowledge made Jason feel guilty. The guilt was physically suffocating, and it was getting worse.

It has been six months. Every morning, Jason and Dick would walk down to town. Dick would go into Mira's shop, and Jason would walk down to the docks by himself. Then, they would each work until the late afternoon. Then, Jason would walk back up to the shop, say goodbye to Mira, and they would walk home.

But during those walks to and from the docks, Jason had time to think. And the severe guilt would weigh down on Jason. Several times now, Jason had to stop and lean against a wall to _breathe._ Tears would spring up in his eyes and he would blink rapidly until they were gone.

Jason didn't know if it was better before Dick or with Dick. Before, Jason was recuperating from his parents' unfortunate death. Loneliness was the dominating emotion. Now, Jason was less lonely, but guilt clouded his every thought. And if Dick left, the guilt and loneliness would wage war within him, and honestly, Jason did not know if he would survive the battle.

And at night, after Dick falls asleep against his chest, Jason would cry silently sometimes, keeping the shaking of his body to a minimum as much as possible, to avoid disturbing Dick. Jason could not deny it. He loved Dick so much it hurt, and the possibility of losing him forever hurt even more.

But Jason would not let Dick know that. Fortunately, Dick is quite oblivious to such things, and Jason wanted nothing more than to keep that part of him hidden, buried away, just like Dick's precious coat.

Months blended together, seasons flew past, and it wasn't long before it was a year. Dick was a lot happier now, but Jason could clearly tell that his heart belonged to the sea.

Dick smiled a lot more, laughing loudly at Jason's jokes, helping out with chores around the cottage, and he touched Jason more freely.

In fact, it had been Dick who kissed Jason first.

Dick had been picking out his wilting flowers, half of them from Jason, the other half from the florist, and Jason volunteered to throw them away for him. Dick smiled at him and kissed him quickly on the lips.

"What was that for?" Jason asked, shocked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Dick shrugged, continuing to rearrange his remaining flowers. "I read about it in one of Mira's books. And I see people do it all the time in town."

Jason smiled weakly, his fingers crushing the dying flowers. A few dried petals fell to the ground. "Dick, that's- that's only something you do with people you love."

Dick gave him a slightly confused look. "You don't love me?"

Jason stumbled for words. "There's… There's more than one kind of love, Dickie. Like the love Mira has for her children, or the kind you have for the sea. They're different."

Dick furrowed his eyebrows. "Then what do we have?"

Jason could feel the guilt and pain bubbling up. "I- I don't… Dick, I don' t think you love me the way you're referencing."

"Why not? What love is that?"

The flowers shook harder. Jason's nails were digging into his own palms now as he tried to steady himself emotionally. "It's a love reserved for someone… someone you hope to spend the rest of your life with. Someone who isn't your family, who isn't your friend, who is _more_ than that. It's- It's a love that is very hard to find," Jason paused. "But very easy to lose."

Dick thought about it. "Oh. I see."

Then he went back to rearranging his flowers. Jason left. He threw the flowers away, and he leaned against the side of the house, trying to calm his shaky breathing. Deep indents were left in his palms, and Jason wanted to scream. He wanted to just let it all out. But he couldn't. Not with Dick there.

A few minutes later, he went back inside. Dick was sitting at the table, gently caressing his flowers and staring out the window at the sea. Jason walked by silently, planning on locking himself in the bathroom to take a shower and cry for a while.

"Jason," Dick said, still looking out the window.

Jason paused. "Yes?"

Dick turned to looked at him. He smiled softly. "I love you."

Jason couldn't breathe. He couldn't. He tried, but he couldn't. So smiled tightly at Dick, tears threatening to well up in his eyes, of happiness this time, and he said, "I love you, too, Dick."

Over the course of the next couple months, they shared many more kisses, hugs, hushed conversations in the darkness. Jason knew it was bad for him. The more he indulged this, the more it was going to break him when Dick inevitably leaves. But he could not help himself. He greedily drank in these moments, like an addict who no longer had any other care in the world.

Jason could not ask for more. Dick loved him. He was happy.

But it got better.

Dick came to him with a question one night. They were at the cove, and Jason had just finished playing for the night. Dick sat down in the soft sand next to him, leaning his head on Jason's broad shoulders. "Jason, what is marriage?"

Jason stiffened a little. "It's a ceremony. A symbolic ceremony for two people who- who love each other very much and wish to live together for the rest of their lives. It's like taking a vow that only death can break. A commitment that binds you to one person for the rest of eternity."

Dick hummed. There was a long pause of silence, only filled the by gentle whispers of the waves on the beach. "Do you think I will ever get to go home? Truthfully?"

Jason did not answer for a while. Then, he whispered the answer he knew all along in his heart, but was so much more painful to hear himself admit it. "Yes."

Dick took Jason's hand, running his thumb over the back of Jason's hand. "Yeah?" He asked quietly. "Is it bad that I don't believe that anymore?"

It broke Jason's heart to hear Dick say that, but at the same time, a tiny part of him rejoiced. "Don't give up hope, Dickie."

Dick did not say anything in response to that. He just silently played with Jason's hand for a while. The he pulled his head away and looked at Jason. Jason met his eyes, now dark blue and shining with the stars and the moon. "I want to get married, Jason. To you."

Jason did not know how to reply to that. Dick wanted to marry him. Wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. "I- Dick."

"I love you, Jason. If I cannot spend the rest of my life in my home, I want to spend it with you."

Jason looked into his eyes, searching for any trace of a lie. He found none. "But if given the chance, you will still go back to the ocean," he whispered.

Dick looked away, confirming Jason's fears.

Jason cupped his cheek and brought Dick's gaze back. "It's okay. Really. I get it. It's your home. Nothing can change that. Don't be ashamed of it."

"So will you marry me?" Dick breathed.

Jason's lip trembled the slightest bit. It was the only sign of his true emotions showing on his otherwise blank exterior. "Yes," he whispered.

They kissed each other with a burning passion on that beach, until the tide grew, and they needed to return to the cottage, where they made love through the night.

They got married, and Jason was truly happy. They did not have a large ceremony, getting married in secret, with only Mira as a witness. The rest of the town did not know.

On the night of their wedding, Jason gave Dick a little wooden box and a key.

"Dick, you need to make a promise to me, and swear to it," Jason said, holding the box in his hands, his knuckles turning white.

Dick nodded solemnly. "Of course. What is it, Jason?"

Jason took a deep breath. "Promise me… Promise me that you won't ever open this box," Jason said with a shaky voice. "Until I die. Not if I'm dying, not if I'm missing. Only if I die."

Dick's eyes were wide. "What? Jason, what are you-"

"Promise me, please, Dick," Jason pleaded. "I just need this one promise."

"Jason…" Dick looked desperate, too. "What could be so important? Important enough for you to feel that you need to protect it until you die?"

Jason didn't answer. "Please, Dickie."

"Okay, I promise. I- I won't open it."

Jason nearly collapsed with relief. He handed the box over to Dick. "Don't lose the key, okay?" Then he leaned forward and kissed Dick hard. "I love you, Dickie."

"I love you, too."

* * *

Three years later, and their relationship is as strong as ever. Dick has kept his promise, he did not open the box, but that did not mean that he wasn't tempted at times. However, he was loyal to Jason and kept his word.

Every day, they would still go down to town together, but as Mira's children grew older, she trusts them to walk home by themselves. She does not need anyone helping around her store as much anymore, so there are days where Dick stays home.

Today was one of those days.

Jason told Dick to cook dinner and eat first. He planned on working a little later than usual.

It was a rather tough project that Jason had been working on for a couple days. The stubborn motor would not stop flooding with water, so Jason has been trying to fix it. It was late by the time he finished. The streets were mostly void of people, and lights were on in nearly every house. Stars started blinking into existence in the sky, and Jason was cleaning up his tools.

That's when he heard them. "…eight of them in the past year."

A low whistle. "Wow, that's a lot. How many do you think are out there?"

The first voice snorted. "Who knows? Tens? Hundreds? Doesn't matter. I won't stop until I kill every last one of them."

The voice made shivers run down Jason's spine. He stopped clearing his tools, peering over the side of the boat. A couple boats down, Mark and a couple of his friends were talking loudly, thinking they were alone.

"Shit, man," one of his friends said. "That might take you the rest of your life!"

Mark laughed. "Well, after me, there will always be others. Those damn seals think they rule the seas? Well, they certainly haven't ever seen a gun."

The other friend chimed in, "What if some of the people in this town are selkies? How will you find them?"

Mark leaned forward, an ugly sneer on his face. "There are ways to lure a selkie in, you know. I have quite a few coats left over from their dead relatives, so I'm sure they won't be able to resist."

Ugly laughter followed. Jason's heart was beating wildly.

"And you know who's first on my list?" Mark's voice was low and threatening. "Todd's pretty friend. The one that mysteriously appeared one day."

Jason gasped. He did it before he could stop himself. They knew Dick was a selkie. And they were planning on killing him.

"Who's there?" Mark's angry voice called.

Jason stayed down, holding his breath.

"Find that little snitch!" Mark roared, and heavy footsteps could be heard, running around the docks. Jason closed his eyes and tried to stay quiet. Suddenly, he was jerked upwards by his hair and he let out a cry of surprise.

Mark was sneering in his face. "Well, if it isn't Todd himself. Hey little fag. You hear us talking about your little boyfriend, eh?"

Jason spat in his face. "You're sick."

Mark punched him in the face. Jason felt blood running down his face from his nose. "What'd you say, brat? You show me some respect, you got it? And maybe I'll let you live."

Jason swung his fist at the man, but his fist was caught by one of Mark's large friends. Mark sneered in his face. "Let's show this little bugger what we _actually_ do for a living."

They all laughed and one of the slammed a wrench down on Jason's head, knocking him out.

* * *

Dick paced the length of the kitchen. He had finished dinner nearly half an hour ago, and the food had gone cold. Jason could have come home by now.

He finally couldn't take it anymore. Something felt off. So he grabbed his dark blue coat and started towards town at the brisk walk. As he started towards he docks, he noticed Mira sweeping outside her store.

"Mira," Dick said, approaching her.

She looked up and smiled. "Dick, how are you? Why're you here so late? What's wrong?"

Dick looked down in the direction of the docks. "Has Jason come up this way?"

Mira shook her head. "No, I don't think so. He usually pops in to say goodnight. Have you checked the docks?"

Dick shook his head. "I'm heading there next. I'm just… getting this weird feeling."

Mira furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, you better go check." She stood outside her store, watching as Dick jogged down towards the docks. She frowned, silently wishing him luck, feeling that he would need it.

The docks were empty. No lights were on, except on one boat in the far back. _Wishes_ was the name of the small boat. Dick's mouth pulled into a frown. _Wishes_ was the boat Jason had been working on. And there certainly was no movement on the boat.

Dick's mind started racing. He tore back up the street, running as fast as he could. But Dick wasn't that fast of a runner, and it took him longer than he would have liked to reach the cottage. He stood at the edge of the cliff and looked out towards the sea.

There was a boat, without any lights on, speeding towards the open ocean. It was way too late for it fishing boats to be heading out, and the fact that it didn't have lights on and was breaking several rules on the speed of boats, Dick knew something was wrong.

The weird feeling quickly grew to heavy dread, and Dick felt sick.

Jason was in trouble. He knew it. Panicking, Dick ran into the house. They did not own a boat, and he had never driven a boat before, so there was no way for him to catch up to that boat, especially with it going at that speed.

So Dick broke the promise he made to Jason.

He cracked open the box, pulling out a couple pieces of folded paper and a key. Dick was momentarily confused. He grabbed the paper, reading it as fast as he could.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and a dry sob escaped him. Dick quickly read through the second and the third page. Then, with shaking hands, Dick put the papers down. He looked out towards the ocean again, at the quickly disappearing boat.

Then Dick ran out with the new key, stopping only to grab a shovel from the shed. He ran to the old tree on the cliff, and dug between the two thickest roots. A couple feet in, he hit something with a heavy _thud_.

Dick uncovered an old, dirty suitcase. With numb fingers, Dick opened the case, a shower of loose dirt sliding off its cover.

And inside, there was his coat. His beautiful seal coat. The single thing he had been searching for this entire time. Dick reached out and stroked it gently, tears running down his face. It seemed almost too good to be true.

He grabbed the pelt tightly, and started down towards the secret cove, slipping and sliding most of the way down. He was pulling off his clothes as he ran, leaving a path of clothing behind him.

He was naked as he ran into the waves, the shocking cold was welcoming. Dick pulled on his seal coat, feeling the transformation almost immediately.

Then, with a flick of his tail, he was speeding into the water, after the boat.

* * *

 _Dick could hear the sound of loud laughter and the purring of the motor. The boat had stopped. From where he was, he could barely see the shore anymore, just a little blip on the horizon. As Dick swam closer, he noticed an abundance of floating objects in the water. Empty beer bottles._

 _Dick swam quietly to the side of the boat. He peeked his head out. The men were at the front of the boat, talking loudly and laughing while drinking beer._

 _And leaned against the railings was his Jason. A trickle of blood ran down from his hairline, and a black eye was forming. His shirt was ripped, his chest covered in several cuts and he was soaked. But the scent in the air was wrong. Jason wasn't wet from seawater. The wicked men had dumped their beer on him. The stinging alcohol would have left him in constant pain. There were also small circular burns on his upper chest and arms. Jason was barely conscious._

 _His eyes blinked slowly, not really focusing, but he saw Dick._

 _His eyes widened a little. Then they flickered to the men at the front of the boat. And Jason mouthed one word at him,_ Go.

 _Dick just blinked at him and didn't listen. Jason tried pushing himself a little, leaning heavily against the metal railing. He waved a hand at Dick, the universal symbol of "shoo". He mouthed the word again, more desperately._

 _Dick just swam closer, until he was nearly directly beneath Jason, looking up at him._

 _Jason's eyes were filled with tears and he kept shaking his head, mouthing the word "go" over and over again._

 _Then, Dick heard them. Far in the distance, too far for the men to hear, but Dick's acute sense of hearing picked it up easily. Barks. His family._

 _Dick turned in that direction, his heart skipping a beat. Dick looked up at Jason again, only to receive the same word. Dick dove under the water, swimming away a little and grabbing a beer bottle. The faint taste of alcohol still lingered._

 _Dick approached the propeller of the boat, and he carefully placed it there. Then he went back for another, and another, and another. As Dick did this, he heard his kin approaching. When enough beer bottles were stuck in the propeller, Dick swam to the front of the boat. He poked his head out of the water and barked loudly at the men._

 _Mark, Dick recognized, saw him first. "There's one of them buggers! Grab your gun, Bobby! Gerald, start the boat!"_

 _Dick turned and dove back into the water, swimming forward. Behind him, he heard the boat starting. There was a vicious screeching noise, crunching of glass, and then a sputtering._

 _"He jammed the damn propeller!" One of the other men yelled._

 _Dick popped back up above water. He barked at the men. Mark growled, throwing his beer bottle down on the deck and grabbed a rifle. He pointed it at Dick. His mouth twisted in an ugly sneer._

 _Just then, before Mark could even cock the gun, the small fishing boat rocked. The three men stumbled. Jason slid across the deck and crashed into the wheelhouse with a loud groan. It rocked back into place. A moment later, another rock, heavier._

 _The selkies had arrived. Together, they were pushing against the boat. The men tried to stay steady on the deck, but they could not. The deck was slick with water, beer and unfortunately, blood._

 _A few more powerful rocks later, the boat tips, tips, tips and crashes into the ocean on its side. Mark's two friends fall into the water, cursing and screaming. Almost immediately, they are attacked by the selkies._

 _Mark, miraculously, hung on. Jason rolled, and landed in the water with a sickening splat._

 _Dick was there in an instant. Jason wasn't moving. He couldn't stay afloat on his own._

 _Dick clicked and barked at his family, asking for assistance. A couple of them came over, supporting Jason with Dick while another one of them grabbed something for Jason to hang onto._

 _Dick nuzzled Jason's face, hope filling his heart when Jason's eyes fluttered open._

 _"Dickie?" he rasped. "You shouldn't be here," he said, urgently. "Go, Dickie. Take your family and go! They want to kill you, Dickie, please, leave. They're going to kill you," Jason sobbed quietly. "Go, Dick, go. Why are you still here? Go, please, go."_

 _Dick barked softly and nudged Jason's bruised cheek gently. He wanted to reassure Jason, to tell him everything was okay. But he couldn't._

 _"Go, Dick! Get out of here!" Jason said, yelling the best he could. He pushed Dick's head away. "Go, Dickie, please go." Dick didn't listen._

 _Dick heard his family barking, passing a message amongst them. Retreat. Their work was done. They were leaving. The two selkies that had been helping Dick gave him a looked before diving down and swimming away with the others._

 _"Go with them, Dickie," Jason whispered, his voice coming out at uneven intervals. His eyes started closing again. "Go with your family, please."_

 _Dick whined gently, rubbing Jason's face again tenderly, only to be pushed away. Jason was slipping from his float, his numb fingers slowly going lax. Dick whined more urgently._

 _Jason's eyes slid shut. "Go, Dickie. Please…"_

 _Behind them, a gun cocked. Jason's eyes seemed to snap open with renewed energy. "No!" He yelled, the sound coming out strained. He pushed Dick away, shoving him under the water._

 _A shot rang out._

 _Blood started diffusing into the saltwater, like paint swirling to form a beautiful, lethal flower._

 _Jason slipped from his float and slid into the water, without more than a small gasp. Dick could taste the metallic tang of blood._

 _He swam forward, pushing against Jason's still chest, pushing him towards the surface. Dick panicked. Jason was shot. Jason was bleeding out. Jason had taken a bullet for him. Jason was dying._

 _Suddenly, two shapes were swimming beside him, helping him push Jason along. Dick turned, recognizing the darker coat of Damian and the paler coat of Tim. They did not speak with Dick, but the three of them started dragging Jason back to shore._

 _The trip was long, and blood seeped continuously from Jason's body. It was a miracle that no predators had come in that time. If any had, the three of them might not be able to defend Jason, depending on how many of them there were._

 _As they came to shallower waters, Dick could see someone standing on the beach of the little cove. Mira._

 _Damian and Tim did not go further than where the ocean met the entrance of the cove. The waves helped Dick drag Jason onto the beach. Mira rushed forward into the waves as well, and she dragged Jason onto the sand._

 _"Oh, Jason," she said, covering her mouth as she started crying. "No."_

 _Dick pushed himself onto the beach as well, but he could not change. Not for another seven years. He nuzzled Jason's chin softly, making whimpering noises in his throat. Tears welled up in his large eyes, and they followed the trails of ocean water down his face._

 _A hand came up and rested on his head. Dick pulled back in surprise. Jason's breathing was shallow and labored. His eyes opened a little, the corner of his lips curling up. "Hey, Dickie? Y'know… Y'know what I… never… told you?" He coughed, blood spraying everywhere._

 _Mira was sniffling a few feet away, wiping at her eyes profusely._

 _"I'm… sorry," Jason said. "So sorry."_

 _Dick wanted to tell him to stop talking, to shut up, to stay alive. Dick only made a pathetic sound._

 _"Don't… cry for… me, Dickie," Jason said. "Just… know that… I'm so… so sorry… I won't… I won't… ask for… forgiveness, but… just… know, 'kay?"_

 _Dick knew this was Jason saying goodbye. He wanted to tell Jason so many more things. He wanted to say that he_ did _forgive him. He wanted to say that he loved him. He wanted to say that Jason was an idiot for risking so much for him. And he wanted to tell Jason that he was sorry too, for never noticing his pain, for never being there for him when he needed it. But he could not._

 _"You… belong with… the ocean, Dickie…" Jason took a deep breath. It was shaky and wet. "Sorry… I took you… away… But you're… free now…" His eyes started closing again, and Dick doubled his efforts, trying to keep Jason awake. "I… love you… Dickie… So much… I'm... sorry…"_

 _Jason exhaled, and he did not take another breath. Mira cried harder, and Dick barked at him over and over again, but Jason did not respond. Dick slapped his face with his flipper, but Jason's head just fell to the side, into the sand, cold and unmoving._

 _Dick stayed there, crying over Jason's body until the tide rose, and Mira knelt down, pulling Jason's body up._

 _"I'm sorry, Dick," she said, her voice sticky with emotion. "I'm so sorry." She pulled him up into her arms like he weighed nothing. "I'll make sure he gets the respect he deserves," she promised. She started walking away._

 _Dick watched as she walked up the cliff path. He sat there after the tide rose, and as it started falling again, Dick followed the tide out, swimming straight past his brothers, who just followed behind him._

 _Dick went home._

* * *

CHAPTER 5

 _SEVEN YEARS LATER_

The little cottage on top of the cliff in the tiny fishing town of Ardalanish is called The Selkie's Cottage. No one has lived there in seven years. Its last inhabitants are gone. One has died and is buried nearby on the cliffs. The other, well, no one knows. He just disappeared out of the blue, almost as suddenly as he appeared.

The only person who might know what truly happened refuses to talk.

On the anniversary of his death, many townspeople go to pay their respects. They leave flowers on the grave beneath the old tree on the cliff. They might say a few words or shed a couple tears.

But the rest of the year, the grave is empty. She visits, of course, occasionally leaving a single flower on the grave.

She also makes sure that the house is still in living condition. She doesn't touch anything, leaving everything as it is. She just dusts and makes sure that the electricity and water is still running.

On the seventh anniversary of his death, she stands near the house the whole day, watching the continuous stream of townspeople who come by. Her lips curl in disgust. Some of the newer ones do not know the truth of the elder folk, so she cannot blame them. The story of the boy and the selkie is practically a myth now. No one exactly remembers if there actually is a selkie.

But she knows. She is all that keeps their memory alive.

As night approaches, she gets ready to leave. She turns out all the lights in the cottage, picking up her coat from the chair and started towards the door.

Then, through the small window in the kitchen, she sees someone walking up from the cliff path. She smiles softly. He came. He is wearing the clothes she left for him earlier.

She quickly takes her leave, whispering a silent good luck to the figure and leaves him.

He has his hands stuck deep in the pockets of his trench coat. A thick pelt of skin hangs loosely in the crook of his left arm. He walked past the cottage, his eyes sad. He looks away and starts towards the tree. He spots the gravestone with the piles of flowers and notes. He ignores them.

Instead, he falls to his knees in front of the grave. For a long moment, he just kneels there, reading the headstone in the moonlight.

 ** _In loving memory of_**

 ** _Jason Todd  
1910-1935_**

 ** _Age 25_**

 ** _Beloved friend and devoted husband whose love transcends all time._**

 ** _Forever._**

Tears spring up in his eyes. Suddenly, as if someone has flicked a switch, he collapses forward, slouching and his hands hiding his face as he cried and cried and cried.

"Seven years," he whispers. "I thought if I saved you, I would be able to see you again in seven years. But I don't. I came back, and you're not here anymore. What do I do now? You were my everything, Jason." He sobs, tears running down pristine skin, dropping into the soil beneath him. "I had to wait seven years to respond to your letter, to tell you everything I couldn't when you died.

"I forgave you, Jason. If I knew that it would have cost you your life, I would have never opened that box. Even if you told me what was inside, what it led to, I would not have taken it. I just… I just want you back." He sniffles loudly, looking up at the dark leaves of the tree. He blinks rapidly. "You didn't hear me say I'm sorry. You didn't hear me say I love you."

He puts his hand on the worn headstone. Seven years of wind, rain, and the caresses of many of the townspeople, the cold stone was wearing down. "I came back the first day I could. And after tonight, I won't be able to visit you for another seven years.

"I… I read your letter, Jason," he murmurs, "and everything happened so fast. I- I didn't get a chance to… say everything I wanted. Jason, you were so good. I wouldn't have wanted anyone else. You deserved to be loved more than anyone I know, and I wish you knew that. I wish I could have seen that you were hurting. I wish… I wish you would've told me.

"I'm sorry, Jason." He takes a deep breath, standing up. There are a series of barks in the distance, far below them, in the ocean. "I need to go now. But… Jason, I just want you to know. I love you. So much. Forever, I promise." He presses his fingertips to his lips and the brushes his fingers against the headstone one more time before turning around.

He pauses as he passes the cottage again. It is dark inside. But he is tempted to look.

He steps into the cottage and flicks the light switch, surprised to see that it works. He looks from room to room. Everything looks the same. Just tiny changes. There is an empty vase sitting in the kitchen. He heads down the hall, peering into the spare room, a ghost of a smile on his face. He goes into the bedroom, his hand brushing over each surface. He can almost hear the ghosts of the people had lived here, living a happy lie.

His eyes land on three pages tossed haphazardly onto the dresser, next to an open wooden box. His breath catches and his heart skips a beat.

Slowly, he reaches down, picking up the pages. His eyes fill with tears again when he sees his handwriting. He reads the first paragraph and he cannot take it anymore. He folds the letter back up and puts it in the box. He locks it with the key. He takes the box and set it on the kitchen windowsill, facing the ocean.

Then, he leaves, key held tightly in his hand.

* * *

CHAPTER 6

 _JASON'S LETTER_

My darling Dickie,

I trust that you will keep your promise, which means that if you are reading this, you have outlived me. I hope my death doesn't impact you too hard. And because I'm gone now, I shall now return what I have stolen from you for my own selfish reasons.

I am so sorry that you need to learn this from a piece of paper, but I cannot say it to your face. I cannot bear to watch your face crumble as you realize that I have betrayed your trust. I cannot watch you walk away from me and out of my life. I do not believe that I would survive something like that.

I have known where your coat is this entire time.

I am so sorry, Dickie. I was lonely and sad. I wanted someone to keep me company, and I took advantage of your injuries. I kept your coat away from you and I lied to you to keep you by my side.

And then I fell in love with you and I did not want you to leave me. But I saw how sad you were. You wanted to go back to the ocean, you wanted to go back home. And the longer I kept you here, the greater my guilt grew.

But I could not let you see that. I hid so much from you, Dickie, I'm sorry. I was so broken inside that even I was afraid to try to fix it, let alone show someone else and ask them to fix it.

I could not do that to you.

When you said you loved me back, it was the greatest day of my life. The constant pains in my chest seemed to lift momentarily, and I could finally breathe. Dick, I wanted to keep you forever then.

But then the guilt returned quickly. You may have loved me, but you obviously loved the ocean more. I took away your true love, I took away your home, I took away your everything! Even just thinking about it, I feel sick. I watch to retch up every lie I've told you, ever half-truth I fed you, every night I've fallen asleep crying, but trying to hide to so you don't wake up.

The guilt ate at me, Dick. I could not control it. It hurt so much on the inside, and then it started hurting on the outside too, and I was scared. But you were finally starting to be happy, so I didn't say anything.

But anyway, none of that is important anymore. I'm dead, so you are free now.

I buried your coat in a suitcase under the old tree on the cliff. Dig a couple feet between the two thickest roots, and unlock it with the key in this box.

Then go home. Be free again. I'm sorry, Dickie.

I'm so sorry. I don't know if I can ever express the amount of regret I have. If I had the choice to do it all over again, I would have given your coat back the minute you asked for it. Yes, I would be unhappy, and I might have ended up here earlier, but you would be happy. You would never know longing and the crushing emotional pain you would have to go through if you met me.

Dickie, I'm not going to ask anything more of you. I have already taken so much from you. Don't worry about my funeral or anything. It's okay. Just go home. I have already prepared for it.

Even in death, I love you.

Forever,

Your husband

 _FIN~_


End file.
